March 28, 2021 - “Key” + an interview with Rahil Najafabadi.

Rahil Najafabadi is a multimedia artist and writer from Rocky Hill, Connecticut. Most of her work includes the elements of her hometown in setting, theme, and style. When we talked with Rahil two Fridays ago she told us a little about her plans to move to New York later this year, while also reflecting on one of her earliest trips to the city –––– visiting from Connecticut, taking a ferry through the rain, and glancing over at the Statue of Liberty.

As an illustrator, painter, and writer, she shared a few words about her creative process –––– the fears and blocks that she comes across from time to time –––– “With writing, it's holding back. I don't like to hold back when I'm writing, because that's mainly the reason why I write,” ––– along with a few of the practices that she relies on to transcend those fears: “For writing I try to revise as much as I can –––– especially with poetry. I've realized that whenever I'm revising I let go of that fear, and I stop holding back from saying what I want to say.” Her poem, “Key,” along with the interview, following.

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Key

The train stretches its edges as it arrives after its time.
Cabins open doors and come out keys that open doors.
I’ve been waiting for a key to my upstate house that will be
built in a cold crossroad. Two tattered hands sewing my pink quilt
in the Lower East Side, patching silk and cotton in squares side by side.
As I walk down 7th Avenue, small stains appear on my shoe.
I’m standing under a wet oak tree, waiting for my unmade key.
My poorly stitched quilt is prepared, but my spattered shoe isn’t repaired.
There are salty tears dripping from the sky, or maybe it was a dream last night.
But children cried for keys that weren’t ribbon-tied.
Teardrops frozen on every building, making them rectangular ice rinks.
Kids climbed the rooftops to the clouds, making fog castles and running about.
They condense the tears, a thunderstorm washes my shoe and clears
the colored silk to a pale pink. I forget the key, but I spread it and sleep
on three seats in the subway.

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C.Q.: What can you tell us about the poem “Key”? 

Rahil: The poem “Key” was supposed to be a poem for a workshop in university for one of my poetry classes, but I kind of changed it in the process of revising. It was supposed to be a poem of place, and it was first inspired by where I grew up, which is Connecticut, but it slowly changed. I kind of moved it into the direction of where I want to be, instead of where I was. 

So it's all about New York, and all of those little moments of my own life. Some of the images are from when I visited New York, and a few of the small things that would happen. I kind of stitched them all together into a whole experience of waiting. So the poem is just about waiting and summing up what that experience is like, and how little those annoying things are and how they don't matter. 

C.Q.: You mentioned that you changed it from being based on from where you were to more about where you want to be. Could you say more about that?

Rahil: Yes. Basically, when we were told that this poem was supposed to be inspired by where you grew up, everyone definitely started writing about that. And I had a lot to write about, because I grew up in Connecticut. But after that class was over, I didn't really like that it had to be about where I was from.

I felt like I could use the focus of a place, but instead, I could create another scenario. And even though it wasn't an exactly accurate experience –––– I kind of changed it because I thought that the experiences that I created for myself and in my head were a little bit more interesting ––– because obviously New York is more interesting than Connecticut. 

C.Q.: Is that obvious?

Rahil: Yeah! I'm being honest. But I think that it felt really ordinary to write about where I grew up, so I just wanted to write something about New York before actually living there, and then see how it would compare. There could be a second part to the poem, once I actually move there. 

C.Q.: Maybe it'll be like, “I wish I was in Connecticut.”

Rahil: Yes! It could be.

C.Q.: What's most important to you right now?

Rahil: Right now I'm mostly focused on working on my poetry and my art, and I've also been really into the process of getting things published ––– both art and poetry. And the thing that's the most important to me right now is a children's book that I've illustrated, and I'm really looking forward to getting it published because I've collaborated with a writer ––– I'm really excited about that. 

C.Q.: What's the book about?

Rahil: It's a children's book that is basically teaching the alphabet but with musicians and singers of jazz. So it's about jazz, and all of the icons of jazz. And what I really like about it is how diverse it is and how different it is, in comparison to other children's books in the market right now, or ever. 

Generally, I do really like children's books because of the illustrations. So this book is a fresh concept and take on children's books, which I think people will like. 

C.Q.: And you're doing the illustrations for the book? 

Rahil: Yes. It's basically finished, so now we're just looking for a way to get it published, or to self-publish it. It's in its final stages. 

C.Q.: That's exciting. What do you think of when you think of New York?

Rahil: For me, it's like an endless hallway of paintings. But not just paintings, but so many frames that you can look at and learn from. But that hallway doesn't necessarily have to be a museum. It could be a street. It could be anywhere. But you could learn as much as you do walking down a street in New York as you would in a museum. That's what I think about when I think about New York. 

C.Q.: An outdoor hallway filled with art that you can learn from. That's an image and idea ––– or actually –––– that's a lot of images and ideas, and lessons. Just to shift gears a bit, I'd like to ask you a little bit more about your creative process: to begin with, what scares you the most about writing and art?

Rahil: With writing, it's holding back. I don't like to hold back when I'm writing, because that's mainly the reason why I write. So that I can say the things that I wouldn't normally vocalize. But in art, it's similar, but it's more so the fear of not being able to create the image that I have in my head. 

C.Q.: Why do you think holding back is a fear for you, with your writing? 

Rahil: I think I've had difficulties with going deeper into experiences, and sometimes the emotional reactions that I've had to those experiences get in the way, and instead of focusing on what needs to be said, I'm focusing on the experience, and so I don't say what has to be said. But I'd like to get better at saying what people don't necessarily want to hear, but sometimes I hold back. And I don't like that.

C.Q.: I think we all struggle with that, at least to varying degrees. Thank you for sharing that. And with art, you said what scares you the most is that what you're picturing doesn't actually appear on the canvass, or on the page? Why do you think that is?

Rahil: Because when you create an image in your head, sometimes it's so clear . . . and you'd definitely like to show it to other people, but when it doesn't come out right, there's so much that people will catch that's not what you initially wanted to share. And as a result, people just don't get the point of the image. 

And the whole point of painting is to show what's inside your head and show that scene or an image or something that people don't really see themselves. But sometimes it comes out wrong, and that's the worst feeling in art ––– when you can't deliver the whole scenario and scenery of your imagination onto the page. 

C.Q.: Yes. That can definitely be frustrating. Then what do you to transcend those fears? 

Rahil: For writing I try to revise as much as I can –––– especially with poetry. I've realized that whenever I'm revising I let go of that fear, and I stop holding back from saying what I want to say. 

And with art, I think maybe laying out designs and sketching more, and preparing that image before showing it to people. So for example, if it's a painting and I'm going to be using oil paints or oil colors or soft pastels, then I would be sketching the image beforehand a lot more vividly ––– and with a lot more details; that way it'll be a lot easier to get closer to what's inside of my head. Because if the sketch isn't matching what's in my mind, then it's a lot easier to adjust the sketch then it would be to adjust the painting. 

C.Q.: That's very wise ––– getting into it before getting into it, or preparing to be successful. 

Rahil: Exactly. 

C.Q.: What does home mean to you?

Rahil: I think home is feeling comfortable with myself. It's not a place. It's not even an emotion. I think its just feeling comfortable in my own skin and just being confident. That's when I feel the most at home.

C.Q.: That make sense. Some people can spend an entire lifetime seeking that feeling.

Rahil: I know. 

C.Q.: Last question: any good New York stories, anecdotes, moments, or memories that you'd like to share; anything that comes to mind?

Rahil: I have a New York story that parallels –––– it happened twice. Basically, when I was a kid, and probably in first grade, I came to New York with my family to visit and we went to the Statue of Liberty, as anyone would. And we got on one of those ferries and it was raining, so it wasn't the perfect time to go. So my dad told me, You know, it's unfortunate that it's raining right now, maybe another time you could go and you could really see the color of the Statue of Liberty –––– when it's not raining.

I don't know why I remembered that for such a long time, because I was just a kid and I didn't really care about the color of the Statue of Liberty. It was this kind of turquoise color that I thought was beautiful. 

But then two years ago, when I came back to New York to visit again, we got on one of those ferries again and it was raining again. And so I never got to see the color of the Statue of Liberty when it's not raining. It was still that darker greenish color, and not the blue color that you see in pictures. 

So that's why I'm moving to New York! I really want to see the Statue of Liberty without the rain.

C.Q.: What do you think it is about that story that made you think of it just now? 

Rahil: I think just how much it didn't matter to me what color it was. But since I'm so obsessed with colors now, it kind of makes sense, even though blue and green are my least favorite colors.  

I think I also remember it because what my dad was saying was such a strange thing to say to a kid ––– that you should check out the color of the statue when it's not raining. That just stuck with me for the longest time. 

Maybe I'll include it somewhere in a poem, but I really liked thinking about it –––– going back to when I was on that boat again. I was just thinking about it a little while ago. It made me laugh a little.